


Of Wyrms and Regret

by AngelBitez



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: AU, And I have no brain, Bc I am just one woman, Fatherhood?, How to have empathy for others?, Listen idk how ao3 works, Literally never used ao3 before this fanfiction, OC, Other, So I may forget things!!, The king learns something, This doesn't strictly follow the story beats of hk, every chapter is a mystery for me until I'm possessed with the urge to write, hell if i know, is this how you tag stuff?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2020-03-14 14:39:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18950146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelBitez/pseuds/AngelBitez
Summary: The Pale King learns about true sacrifice, and perhaps redeems himself in the process.





	1. Vessels and Seals

The Pale King was the only one truly present during the Sealing. Kingsmoulds were doing the brunt work of sealing the Vessel, but they were without mind nor care, doing their tasks with eyes set on their claws as the king stood at the entrance to the room, regarding them all coldly. Truly, his gaze was only focused on the Vessel, on it's blank face and the void behind the eyes barely containing the dreaded light.

The Vessel stood limply as the kingsmoulds wrapped chains around their lithe body, offering no resistance as they were pulled unbearably tight. One of the kingsmoulds reached for their nail, and only then was there a reaction; their long fingers tightening around the handle. It was a fine nail. The Pale King has made sure that when they entered training they would be suitably supplied with only the best weapons able to be crafted; and the Vessel's current nail was as close to Pure as any nailsmith could make, made with the ore with the Wyrm's namesake. Any bug would've gotten attached to such a weapon. But the Vessel wasn't a bug.

There was brief moment where the Kingsmould hesitated, clearly unsure what to do about the Vessel showing such hesitance. Before the Kingsmould could do anything rash, the Pale King strode forward, and it quickly retreated in submission.

 

_“Vessel. You will have no need for your nail upon being sealed. Release the weapon.”_

 

When the Vessel seemed to hesitate, the Pale King reached forward and stopped an inch away from their hand.

Something was wrong.

The Vessel was shaking, lightly rattling their chains. It couldn't be afraid, could it? No, the Pale King surmised. It must be the effort of keeping the infection inside, it probably had to adjust before it could comfortably hold Her hostage.

 In the king's chest there came a mild pang of sympathy. Before he could stop himself, he covered the Vessel's larger hand in his own and held it there for one second.

Two seconds.

Three.

The shaking slowed, and the Vessel's fingers relaxed, their head bowing in submission. The king took the weapon and stepped back with it in his hands. If it would bring the vessel some sort of comfort, he supposed he could leave it here. What was a knight without a sword? Though, in lieu of that thought, what was a bug without a mind? The king knew it was foolish to believe there was any sort of mind inside of the vessel, any attachments to weapons or otherwise. It had been created with a singular purpose, a cursed creature of only obedience and instinct. Still.

The Pale King had no use for weapons.

 

So, he jabbed it into a crevice in the rocky ground, engraved with seals upon seals, more protection for Hallownest. As he stared at the nail, he found himself speaking to the vessel.

 

_“Vessel...What you do is for the good of all of Hallownest.”_

 

He turned his head to gaze into their empty eyes. No expression on their shell, as blank as the day it had spilled from their egg with their siblings. As the kingsmoulds began to hoist the vessel into the air, he kept speaking, even over the sounds of the chains grinding against stone.

 

_“You must never weaken, never falter. You will remain here for as long as you exist.”_

 

There was a beat. The king searched for anything to say, but nothing came to his mind. He nodded to the vessel and turned, motioning to the kingsmoulds to leave. He waited for them to exit before slowly moving away himself. Against his better judgement, he paused at the door, turning his head and regarding the Vessel. They had begun to shake again, a distant orange light in their eyes. For a moment, the king recalled how the Vessel had once looked in their robes—overlaid over the grey and raggedy one they had been hatched with—how regal, downright royal they had looked.

_The perfect Heir, child of Wyrm and Root_

And found himself banishing it from his mind. It was a ridiculous notion, even considering It to be a child was a laughable act, nonetheless anything equal to a bug. The Void had hollowed it. If anything, It was only a shell of the child It could have been, a reanimated corpse.

The Pale King felt a chill down his spine and shook it off, raising his hands in the direction of the Vessel, his arms outstretched as if in embrace. He began to whisper to the soul in the air, bending it to his will. Like a spider weaving a web, he wrapped a Seal of Binding upon the Vessel.

They were still shaking when the kingsmoulds shut the great door.


	2. Memories and Emptiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think higher beings can feel pain? I sure do. >:)

His Queen didn't speak to him that night, as he lay in bed alone. He supposed, even after all this time, she had retained some sort of attachment to the vessels birthed. She certainly hadn't spoken to him much back when he had discarded the failures. Perhaps the years of proximity with the Vessel had gotten to her; He shouldn't have allowed her so much time with It. His thoughts were drawn to a memory, when it was still small.

 

_The Vessel sat quietly in front of the Queen, staring blankly ahead as she arranged the decorative robe around their shoulders, snapped a clasp of pure ore onto their right horn, polished their shell to a gleaming white._

_"There. Now you look lovely, perfect for dinner."_

_The Vessel didn't reply._

 

He pulled himself back to the present as he felt his wife's weight on the side of the bed. He turned his head to regard her, but was met with her back as she settled in for the night. He couldn't bring himself to speak.

 

The night was not forgiving to him. He fell into a restless sleep and ended up dreaming of the Vessel.

 

_The Vessel shaking in their chains as they were suspended in the air, their hand clenching and unclenching around the lost weapon. Barely disguised light behind the void._

_The Vessel, small and newly hatched, crawling it's way out of the Abyss and reaching the platform on which the king stood, it's shell dripping with void. The Pale King did not help._

_The Vessel, sparring with Dryya, disarming her and sending her to the dirt. The Pale King feeling an odd sense of pride in his chest, and banishing it._

_The Pale King watching the slowly swaying roots of his wife in the distance, the Vessel standing beside him. The king looked at them, and they looked back, and time was suspended for a moment in their gaze before they turned back to the roots._

 

The Pale King sat up in bed, feeling warm and sweaty. His carapace itched with unease, his robes heavy and hot on his shell. Upon finding he couldn't get comfortable again, he simply slipped off the bed and strode out of the room. From the bed, the Queen continued to stare at the wall.

 

Initially the king couldn't figure out where he was walking. His path took him past royal retainers, who bowed so low their foreheads kissed the polished ground, past his patrolling kingsmoulds, who simply tipped their armored heads down, past room upon empty room, until he was out of the palace entirely.

He found himself in front of the door to the Abyss. It stood open in front of him, the seal coming undone as soon as he had entered the room. What was he doing here? He didn't know. The Pale King dropped.

Down

Down

Down into the Abyss. Before he could splat on the ground, he billowed out his robe and caught himself with his wings, landing lightly on the floor made up of the hundreds of corpses left behind. The hundreds of vessels discarded, like so much trash and debris. It felt almost wrong to penetrate the silence of this depressing pit, the thin shells crunching loudly under his feet, but he had to, his body buzzing with need.

His path took him to the edge of the great void sea. The lighthouse was still in working condition, shining light onto the surface of the sea and calming the creatures within. For a long time, the Pale King merely gazed into the distance; but the sea called to him. The pull tugged him to the edge, where he stared down at his faint reflection in the inky water. The waves distorted his pristine image, turning him into a monstrosity.

 

_"Darling, are you absolutely certain about this?"_

_"Never have I been more sure, my love. If we are to save Hallownest, save ourselves, we'll have to do this."_

_"But...but they're our children!"_

_"They won't be, once the eggs are placed in the void. We have to move swiftly, before She takes more of my subjects and reduces them to nothing."_

He came back to himself with a start when he realized his reflection had warped, warped into…

_"Vessel?"_

He whispered, instinctively reaching down, fingers of his right hand disturbing the surface of the water. A thick black tendril suddenly lashed around his wrist and pulled him forward with strength he'd never felt before. He only barely caught himself, a undignified yelp leaving him as his arm was submerged elbow deep into the liquid. He could feel the sea tugging, pulling, wanting him to lose his footing and just let himself go.

 

For a moment, he almost let it. Let the void pull him in and consume him, burning him free of his sins with it's cold fire. But his sense of self preservation was too strong, and he ripped himself free of the void's grip with a scream, falling ungracefully onto the dusty ground and scrambling back from the shore. The pain in his arm was almost too much to bear, and for a moment he just held it to his chest as he heaved for breath, the void staining his white robes with it's black ink. He shut his eyes for a moment and screamed again, raising his face to the cavern ceiling as it rang across the sea. Down here, no one would hear his screaming, or see his weakness.

It was a while before he finally calmed down enough to tend to his wound. Shakily, he raised his hand and inspected it, experimentally flexing his fingers and rotating his wrist. His arm up to the elbow had gone completely grey, nothing like the pristine white of the rest of his body. In the cracks of his fingers, between his joints, void leaked. It dripped down and splashed against the shells of the discarded vessels, and the Pale King suddenly felt intensely claustrophobic. He needed to leave. Quickly, trying not to look like he was afraid, or running, he made his way back to the drop. From there, he merely flitted up from the bottom and landed back on the platform, disappearing through the door and hurriedly sealing it once more.

 

He hid his arm under his robes as he made his way back to the white palace. Nobody would ever know of his excursion down into the abyss. He intended to keep it that way.


	3. Queens and Worry

The Queen was worried.

Her king was acting oddly, and it didn't go unnoticed. Not by her, or by the royal retainers, or the five great knights. She could hear the concerned whispers echoing through the palace, from the roots she had spread through it so deeply and thoroughly. Truly, no one was free from her watch. She had known when her beloved wyrm had left, and had felt it when he returned. Could feel something wrong with his purity. She didn't know what it was, but it ate away at her, for even after all of this heartbreak she still loved him so much. 

He had isolated himself from everyone, had opted to wash himself alone and dress himself alone, without any attendants or even guards. He hadn't used his dominant hand to gesture in so long, and ate using only his left. Something was wrong. The Queen didn't know how to bring it up, unsure if this was a result of sealing away their child.

No, the Vessel. She had to remember it wasn't a child. It had never been. Silly her. She pulled her thoughts back to the present, from her spot in the nursery.

 

_ "....Dryya." _

 

Her knight looked up from where she had been standing behind the chair, wiping her nail with a cloth.

 

"Yes, your highness?"

 

_ "Tell me, if you had a spouse, how would you set about talking to them?" _

 

Dryya was clearly confused by the question, her hand slowing.

 

"If I may ask, why do you inquire?"

 

_ "I can't be curious about your opinion, Dryya?" _

 

"With all due respect, my queen, I wasn't appointed a great knight with thought to my opinions. It is my job to serve and protect you and you alone."

 

The White Lady couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face at that, a soft chuckle leaving her.

 

_ "You and your snark. This is why I asked for you, you know. You're so amusing." _

 

"And I am infinitely grateful for the opportunity to serve you, my lady."

 

_ "Allow me to refrain the inquiry. Let's say you had a spouse—" _

 

Here Dryya looked at the floor, her shell growing warm.

 

_ "If you were worried for her, or merely wanted to have pleasant conversation, how would you bring it up?" _

 

"In all honesty, my queen, I've never had much experience in this subject. If it were  _ me _ , I'd merely go to her and state what I want, without hesitance or forethought."

 

_ "Well, you are the impatient kind." _

 

"That I cannot deny, my lady."

 

There was a long moment of silence between the two women. The White Lady knew Dryya couldn't possibly understand how she felt, but….

 

"My Lady?"

 

She tucked her polishing cloth away, setting the tip of her nail on the floor and resting her hands on the pommel. The Queen acknowledged her inquiry with a soft  _ "Hm?" _

 

"If I may ask this, are you….concerned about our pale monarch?"

 

The Queen waited a long moment before responding, finally allowing her worry to shine through her usual calm.

 

_ "Why… yes, I suppose I am." _

 

She extended a hand towards Dryya, who hesitated before stepping forward and slipping her own gloved hand into it. The Queen's hand was unnaturally smooth and cool compared to Dryya's, and it bought a shiver to the slender bug.

 

_ "Dryya, I trust you implicitly. You and I are thick as thieves, are we not?" _

 

"Yes ma'am."

 

_ "You won't speak a word of anything I tell you?" _

 

"No, ma'am."

 

And thus, the Queen spoke her worries to her confidant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this so far! If you'd like to follow me on Tumblr and get info on when I update, just follow me @angel-bitezs!  
> A short chapter today, and I realized I can't write old timey people speech, so bare with me here.


	4. Infection and Void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave kudos and comments! I'm working hard on bringing more chapters your way!

 

It was eating away at him.

>  

He hadn't noticed it at first, too concerned with hiding his arm away and doing it convincingly. It seemed to be working, though his Queen had surely caught on to him. He didn't worry about her trying to usurp him while he was offbalanced and weak however, she loved him too much to do something so drastic. He was certain of it.

Whenever he would inspect his arm, it only looked worse. The grey coloration had begun to darken, and the void never.

Stopped.

Dripping.

For all of his worries about this, he couldn't help but be terribly annoyed by such a nuisance. The void stained, and seeing as he had pure white robes it was just a recipe for disaster that left him washing his own clothes to avoid detection.

Anyways, he spent his time testing his arm, fearful of losing it completely. It moved under his volition, but he had begun to loose the feeling in the tips of his claws, and he was afraid of what that might entail. If he lost all feeling, what would be left? An icy chill, like he was plagued with all the time? Would it turn into void and drip away? The unknown frightened him, honestly and completely. The void was beginning to hollow him out from that starting point, he was sure of it.

 

She had been an unknown, too. He had known OF Her, certainly, and sealed Her away, but it was out of fear of what She might have done to him for usurping Her kingdom. No doubt She was cruel and terrible, with the affliction She had bought down onto the general populace. The King had given them free thought for a reason! So they would be free to worship him! Besides, he could never manage a hivemind as well as She had.

He was just staring pensively out a window, idly wrapping his arm in bandages to keep it from dripping everywhere, when a bug entered the room. He hid his arm in his robes as they came up from behind him.

 

_"What is it? I asked to be left alone."_

 

"Deepest apologies, my dear pale monarch, but it's terrible! There's been news—the infection has begun to spread once more!"

 

He felt a pit form in his stomach. The bug was clearly nervous about telling him this news, working their claws over themselves again and again.

 

_"....Excuse me?"_

 

"The—The infection. Bugs everywhere are beginning to lose themselves again. It's—Pale King, it's even spread to the dead! "

 

_"How could this have happened? I personally ensured the end of the plague."_

 

"I don't know, sire. I was visiting a colleague of mine in the great city when he began to spout about light and came for me!"

 

The king turned, facing the bug, who shrank down in a gesture of meekness, turning their face to the floor and hiding their eyes. They were clearly high-born. Cowardly.

 

_"....I applaud you for your haste in bringing me this message. I will deliberate over this and reach a solution, that is my promise to you."_

 

The bug nodded, and the king drew himself up and moved past them, his steps echoing on the tiled floor. A hand suddenly shot out and reached under his robes, grabbing his wrist and jerking him back, making him gasp in surprise. How dare this bug even touch him?!

 

_"How DARE you?!"_

 

A raspy voice answered him back, shrill, female. His eyes widened in recognition.

 

**_"YOU WILL NOT WIN."_ **

 

The bug shook violently, a burning light deep in their eyes as they stared at the king, face to face. Their fingers clutched his wrist so tightly that he could feel his shell almost cracking.

 

**_"WHATEVER YOU DO, I WILL RETURN. I WILL TAKE BACK WHAT YOU STOLE. I WILL PUNISH YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID. I—"_ **

 

The bug stopped screeching when She glanced down at the hand in their grip. It was bad. The tips of his fingers were going black by now, and void dripped into Her fingers, where it hissed like acid. She dropped his hand and staggered back with a layered gasp.

 

" _N-No, that's, that's_ **_IMPOSSIBLE. YOU WOULD NEVER—"_**

 

His hand shot forward, gripping the bug by the neck.

 

_"Oh, but I would."_

 

He was bluffing, now seeing how the void had frightened Her. This made him brave, coward that he was.

 

_"Just you wait, Radiance. I'm going to eradicate you completely, I will bend the void to my will and consume you so fully that you'll not have a mind to think nor your powers to use. Unless you pull back from_ **_my_ ** _kingdom, now."_

 

**_"N—NEVER! I'LL NEVER SURRENDER TO YOU!!"_ **

 

_"Then perish."_

 

The bug let out a gasp as the king's sword split their shell, infection dripping from their mouth and their chest. The glowing light faded from their eyes before they slumped into the pale king, staining his robes with the orange infection. He shoved them off and they hit the ground, the sword he had summoned dematerializing and leaving just the dead bug behind. And as he stared down at the corpse, a thought began to worm it's way into his head.

Perhaps...perhaps there was a way to be rid of Her.

As he turned and strode out of the room, the Queen appeared at the end of the hall. Ah, of course, she would've heard everything. She rushed forward, her usual calm composure lost. Behind her trailed Dryya, her eternal shadow.

 

_"My Wyrm!! Are you alright? Did she hurt you?!"_

 

The Pale King couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face as he took her hands in both of his, staining her palms with infection and void.

 

_"I'm quite alright, my dear Root. Dryya."_

 

She snapped to attention, bowing deeply to the king.

 

_"Please alert my retainers that the infection has been spreading once more. And, tell them to summon Monomon. It is time to rid ourselves of this plague once and for all."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh what's our lovely awful king going to do now?


	5. Acid and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edit: added some extra dialogue to help flesh out the story later

Monomon took her sweet time getting to the white palace.

To be fair though, the Pale King thought, her mode of locomotion wasn't quite conducive in getting anywhere. When he got word of her arrival, he moved down to greet her at the door.

The Teacher was floating in a heavy tank of acid, wheeled along by several of the big guards commissioned from the City of Tears. Her assistant and pupil trotted along next to it, carrying tubes of acid in a sling across his back, looking significantly more amused than the teacher herself. He was a messy looking bug, an antenna sticking out of the green silk he had tied around his head and papers spilling out of his arms. A younger bug trailed behind him, picking up any dropped papers and chastising his eagerness. The Pale King, as impatient as he was, couldn't help but be amused as he listened to the interaction.

 

"Quirrel! Pay more attention, do you _want_ to impress the king, or not?"

 

Quirrel chuckled at that, but did slow down and adjusted the papers in his arms so he wouldn't lose anymore.

 

"Ah, Althea, that's what you're here for!"

 

"Don't say that, what if he hears??"

 

"Then you will be sent back to the Archive, to fend for yourself!"

 

Althea huffed angrily at that, her shell tinting green from her flush. She was a child, a butterfly with oversized wings and oversized glasses to match. Her antennae curled back, and she had clearly dressed in her best in preparation of being a part of this mission. The Pale King was confused by the choice of bringing a child to this, but he would ask the Teacher soon. As it stood, he cleared his throat, shutting down their conversation.

 

_"Teacher. I trust that your journey here was pleasant?"_

 

Monomon scoffed at that, shoving the lid of the tank up and pushing her head just above the surface, her tentacles curling against the glass. She waved one idly above the water as she spoke.

 

"No! If you had something so pressing that you needed my intellect, you should have just traveled to my Archive! Do you have any idea how absolutely restraining this is? You know for a fact that I cannot travel outside of the canyons without help!"

 

The butterfly's mouth gaped open at Monomon's blatant disrespect of the Pale King, and she immediately covered her eyes with the papers, as if anticipating the king striking the teacher down that instant. Instead, he merely folded his arms behind his back and inclined his head apologetically.

 

_"I need you here for this. Let us move into the room, as we did before."_

 

"The room" in question was in fact a chamber set deep into the palace, locked by the king himself. Silk papers were spread over a large table, filled with equations and drawings of void creatures. A single drawing of the Hollow Knight lay on the floor. Acid bubbled in a large aquarium at the back of the room. Once the guards had carefully set the tank down, he approached them and spoke harshly, his eyes glinting.

 

_"You were never here today. You will not tell a single soul that you were here, or I, personally, will give you your rightful punishments."_

 

The guards bowed and quickly skittered out of the room as fast as they could, and the king turned back towards the three bugs left in the room.

 

_"Monomon."_

 

"Yes, sire?"

 

_"Did you have to bring a child? I bought you here for a serious discussion. Do you believe that I plan to play grubsitter?"_

 

Monomon snorted, pushing most of her body up so she could lean over the edge of the tank and climb into the aquarium with a splash, stretching her cramped limbs out in the new space. Althea ducked her head bashfully, but the king could see her eyes darting around, taking in the papers and information everywhere. Analyzing? His attention was drawn back to Monomon when she cleared her throat.

 

"Now now, my monarch, you know I have nothing but respect for you. Althea here is my newest pupil. She is learning alongside Quirrel and she has a sharp little mind inside that shell of hers. She will not interfere with whatever it is you wish do about the resurgence of the infection."

 

The Pale King raised an eyebrow at that, but merely sighed and turned his gaze back towards the child, who straightened up, wings fluttering lightly and betraying her nerves.

 

_"....Very well. But you, child. You do not speak of what you witness today, not now, and not ever."_

 

"Y-Yes, my king."

 

The Pale King sighed and turned back towards Monomon as Althea shuffled towards Quirrel, who patted her shoulder in a reassuring manner.

 

_"I assume that you have already been working on a solution, yes?"_

 

Monomon nodded and motioned towards Quirrel, who set the acid tubes on the table and dug through them until he found the one he needed, standing it upright on the table. Indecipherable words floated in the acid, the pale king only catching a few of them.

SEN-SEAL-HIGHER-THREE-VESSEL

Monomon took his attention once more with a soft cough.

 

"I believe we can contain Her again if we enact the sealing plan that I proposed initially. You've already given Herrah her price, and Lurien and I have already pledged ourselves to you, so us falling into sleep would—"

 

_"I'm going to stop you right there. Before you continue, I must show you something."_

 

The king undid the clasp around his false robe and set the heavy metal brooch on the table with his good arm. Monomon squinted at him.

 

"Why are you using your non-dominant hand?"

 

_"Hush."_

 

He spread his arms, finally exposing his right.

It was worse. The void had spread almost to his shoulder joint, dripping endlessly from the joints of his elbow and fingers and splashing on the tile floor. Monomon's entire body almost tilted the aquarium from how far she leaned forward, bringing herself as close to the king as possible. The king could almost see the gears turning in her shell. When she spoke, her voice was hushed in awe and curiosity.

 

"You...Did you do this on purpose, my king?"

 

He quickly cleared his throat, feeling a hot wash of embarrassment. If they were alone, he would have been more honest. But as it stood, there were two unwelcome bugs trying to mask their surprise and shock.

 

_"It does not matter. I was partially submerged in the void sea, and this is the result. Before I sent for you, She snuck Her way into my palace, using a bug as a vessel, and attempted to threaten me before She saw this. She was ...I believe She was afraid of it, and that gave me an idea."_

 

"...Go on."

 

_"Would it be possible to wound Her so deeply, so completely, that She could never return? She is the light, and this is the darkness. I can weaponize it, perhaps, and finally silence Her for good."_

 

Monomon sunk back into the bubbling acid, her eyes narrowed in thought.

 

"...You are so bold now, my king. What has changed?"

 

The Pale King recalled seeing the Vessel shaking in their chains, his arms dropping.

 

_"Perhaps the darkness has changed something fundamental inside of me as well as out. As it stands, I need your mind. Could I survive this with my mind intact? Or will it hollow me out like it did my progeny?"_

 

The teacher hummed quietly, rubbing her shell with a tentacle.

 

"My king, your inquiry is not one answered easily."

 

_"By that you mean…?"_

 

"When you tasked me to research the void, I did so with glee. Something new to learn is always welcome, for the expansion of the mind is nothing but a victory."

 

She paused, her tentacles undulating in the expansive space of her tank.

 

"But the void does not want to be analyzed. I helped you develop the wing and kingsmoulds. I dug into the ancient civilisations with gusto. I helped shape the void to hollow out your children to contain Her. And through it all, I still know too little of the void. It is an unpredictable force of nature, and we have barely scratched the surface of it's use."

 

The Pale King crossed his arms, eyes narrowing.

 

_"So, you don't know?"_

 

"Yes, and no, sire. It is not a matter of whether or not you survive. You are a Wyrm, and death is naught but a change for you, yes? You are strong."

 

_"Does that mean I should force the void into submission, as before?"_

 

"No, because this isn't merely a tool to be used. The void is clearly becoming a part of you. Pale Wyrm and Void, merging, changing each other. My king, I don't believe it is a matter of you taming the void. This is a matter of you accepting it."

 

They gazed at each other for a long moment, Monomon's face distorted by the acid and glass, turning her monstrous. He turned his gaze down to his hand, void collecting in his palm and running between his fingers like so much ink.

He thought of the sacrifices he had made. He thought of the Vessel. He thought of the uncertain future. And after a long moment, he looked back at the teacher, his shoulders squaring, a decision made.

 

_"Well then. Let us begin."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to check out my Tumblr at @angel-bitezs or @silk-and-dreams! I'll be posting art there soon!


	6. Sins and Acceptance

Fire.

 

Ice cold fire burned within him.

 

Burned outside him.

 

What was he doing again…?

 

He couldn't remember.

  
  


His head was filled with screams. His own? No. No, the screams were…children? Children. So young. So many. There were so many screams.

 

The bug had never been concerned with children, hadn't he? Then again, he had never heard a child scream like that. It was a sound that was more animal than bug, filled with so much primal fear and  _ pain  _ that it hurt.

 

He opened his mouth to scream with them, to yell his pain into the cloying darkness, but nothing left him. The dark was so absolute. It sunk into his shell, filled his mouth. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't fight. The darkness had him in it's grip.

 

Drowning.

 

He was drowning.

 

_ "You must accept it." _

 

Her voice in his head, the Teacher, reverberating above the screams and pain. It focused him, somewhat. Who was he?

 

The Pale King opened his eyes. Darkness. He'd never been in darkness so absolute before. He couldn't see anything, but he could feel. Oh, he could feel. 

 

The Sea had him.

 

He was being dragged deeper and deeper. It pressed in around him, tight, painful. He was like a drop of light in this vast ocean, but it wouldn't last for long. He couldn't feel his arm anymore. And the longer he struggled to stay conscious, the less he could feel.

 

The Pale King was afraid.

 

He was afraid of everything. From the moment he had been hatched, the fear had writhed inside of him, rearing its head every time he felt threatened.

Poor Wyrm. The runt of the litter. They had whispered about him to his siblings, you know. Told them simply to kill him. Eat him and grow strong, and fat, they said.

 

Fear made him kill his siblings, and when his parents returned to the nest, he killed them too, for he was too afraid to die.

 

Fear made him work against Her in the shadows. The Wyrm, unsure in his new form, took his kingship without force. It was genocide, making the moths forget who they were, where they came from. But it was necessary, for he was not strong enough to face Her.

 

Fear drove him to create the Teacher. He had traveled into the fog canyons and forced one of the strange creatures there to grow a mind. And what a mind it grew, and a body to match. He gave her perhaps maybe too much mind, for she was leagues smarter than him. Perfect for finding the solution.

 

No cost too great.

 

Sleepless nights and unrest and  _ fear _ had led him to his most cowardly act yet.They weren't alive in any way that mattered, he reminded himself; no mind, no thoughts, only instinct and obedience. Hollow shells. Empty. 

 

Empty. 

 

The screams grew louder, drawing his attention. His shoulder was going numb. Running out of time, running out of time. The fear coiled in his chest, and he  _ pushed _ , fighting, trying to do something, anything, surface, fight, breath, move—Nothing. He could do nothing. He was going to die and he was going to die because he was a  _ coward _ .

 

He could see, faintly, a light. Pale. The outline of some creature, sliding through the void like it was a fish. It was monstrous, looming ahead of the Pale King like a harbinger of death, wavering like a mirage. Running out of time. He couldn't...what could he do? This wasn't working! 

The screaming stopped.

 

**_"It will not survive until it is faced with its sins."_ **

 

The thing spoke, it's voice garbled and deep, the king only barely understanding it. He couldn't speak, but he felt like it would understand him, down here.

 

_ "I have done nothing wrong. Everything I do, it is for the good of the kingdom." _

 

**_"It believes it is sinless. It believes it thinks for others. It is wrong. I will consume it, and it's pale light will flicker out, and it will disappear."_ **

 

_ "Death is not absolute for me." _

 

**_"Death is never absolute. But this will be. Choose. Reflect. I will watch and wait, but not because I am caring. I am the end of all things. I might be the end of the pale creature."_ **

 

It faded away into the void, leaving the pale king alone with the screaming. The fire burned hotter than ever, and the king shut his eyes.

  
  


_ They stood on the balcony together, vessel and king, unspeaking. _

_ The Pale King was merely taking a moment of respite, observing his Queen's roots sway in the wind. The palace was bathed in light, everything gleaming fresh and new.  _

_ The vessel turned its head upwards, gazing at their creator, the darkness in their eyes unfailing. And the king looked back, finding himself unable to pull his gaze away from the unfathomable emptiness in the vessel's sockets. _

 

_ "...What is it?" _

 

_ The vessel merely turned their head back to the view, but reached up with one tiny hand, taking the king's own. The king flinched, making the vessel immediately withdraw back under their robe. The king, thrown off-kilter, pretended this hadn't happened. _

 

He blinked.

 

_ The Vessel was growing like a plant, inching higher and higher every day. One day, their horns bumped into the doorframe, and they didn't move. The King had been leading them out for breakfast. He paused and turned. _

 

_ "Well? Keep moving, Hollow Knight." _

 

_ Their expression didn't change. They merely backed up and ducked their head, straightening up upon exiting the door.  _

 

_ "Stop. Duck down, let me see." _

 

_ The vessel kneeled in front of the king and dropped their head. The king briefly inspected their horns. _

 

_ "Mrmm...no cracks. Good. You're too important to hurt yourself seriously. Pay more attention next time." _

 

Again.

 

_ "My love, please, I cannot do this anymore." _

 

_ "You knew what you agreed to, Root." _

 

And again.

 

_ Vessels were lined up on the platform. The King strode in front of them, inspecting them, searching for the imperfections. He pointed the defective ones to the left. One by one. A disconcertingly tall vessel with five horns. Two who clung to each other and shook in his presence. One who threw themself at him and was promptly speared by a sword. One who dripped void and swayed from side to side, more liquid than solid. Every mistake, marched to the edge, and ordered to jump.  _

 

And again

 

_ The choking dust of ground up shells. Broken shells beneath his feet. Tiny bodies landing with sickening crunches. He watched them fall without expression, knowing this was for the greater good. Right? _

 

And again.

 

_ His Root, crying herself to sleep next to him. He didn't comfort her. _

 

And one more time.

 

_ The Hollow Knight, shaking with fear as he sealed the door shut. _

 

It was too much. He could feel his mistakes and sacrifices, weighing heavily on his shoulders.

The Pale King saw his sins and wept bitterly, feeling, perhaps for the very first time in his long life, remorse.

 

His children. Those had been his children and he had hurt them. He had killed so many he had lost count, it had to have been thousands. Thousands of babies.

Oh Wyrm, the Hollow Knight. He had filled them with hope and loyalty and paid their unending obedience with suffering alone and afraid in that temple. He needed to...he needed to right his wrongs. He needed to save them.

 

**_"Choose."_ **

 

The Pale King chose. And his light flickered out.

————

 

Quirrel shot to his feet and stumbled back as a hand burst out of the water, catching onto the bumpy shore, watching as...something was dragged out.

 

"Holy Wyrm!! What in the blazes is that?!"

 

He lifted his sword, his entire body tense. He had already been spooked enough as it was, watching the king disappear under the dark water and being left alone for hours. He had actually been ready to leave, sure that his king had perished.

 

What rose from the water was not the wyrm who had entered it so long ago. As he struggled to his feet, Quirrel dropped the sword and moved forward to help, shuddering as the liquid void slid over his hands.

 

"My king? Are you alright?"

 

The void continued to drip, and the wyrm gave a quick shake, flinging void off of his head. Quirrel realized, with a shock, that it wasn't just the void on the king. His shell had been dyed completely black, along with his robes. His eyes glowed like twin spotlights on his face.

 

"S—Sire..?"

 

_ "I...am fine. Thank you, Quirrel." _

 

The king took a deep breath, before straightening up and pushing his robes over his shoulders so he could inspect his body. Quirrel stepped away, only barely suppressing his gasp at what he saw. The king's right arm was just gone, cleanly cut at the shoulder, a testament to his struggle under the void. His wings flapped hard, scattering void and stretching to dry out in the dusty air.

 

"We...should get you back to Monomon now. Come."

 

_ "Yes...I should...yes…" _

 

The king buckled, and Quirrel only barely managed to catch the monarch before he could hit the bumpy ground. He was out cold.

 

"Oh Wyrm…I hope this plan works. I sincerely do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)  
> Don't forget to follow me on Tumblr @angel-bitezs, or on my hk sideblog @silk-and-dreams!


	7. Info stuff

I apologize for the long wait, fellas. Summer hit me hard and i just couldn't bring myself to write after the last update.

Rest assured, there will be more updates. Thank you all for being patient. :)

Follow me @silk-and-dreams on Tumblr for my hk sideblog, or follow me @angel-bitezs for my main!


	8. Apologies and Visions

It turned out that having a new form took time to get used to.

The King could recall when he had first burst out of his old form, how strange it was to be more bug than wyrm. This was much the same. Upon waking in his bed, his shoulder patched up and his wife fretting nearby and seeking comfort from her knight, he didn't even have the strength to sit up or move.

 

_"M...My love…"_

 

His queen had gasped and shot forward, her roots curling around the bed and reaching for him, both of her hands taking his own and squeezing hard.

 

_"My dear sweet king! My sky and stars! My true love!"_

 

And then she slapped him, making Dryya step back in shock. He groaned, tilting his head away and squinting his eyes nearly shut. She surged forward, absolutely furious, more angry than she had ever seen him.

 

_"How DARE you?! How dare you almost get yourself killed without even telling me?! Haven't you done enough?!"_

 

_"I...ugh… I admit I deserved that…"_

 

_"Just look at yourself! Your pale light, nearly snuffed out completely! I swear to wyrm, if you had disappeared after everything—"_

 

She choked on her words, her shaking hands taking hold of the sheets. Her roots were moving like snakes, showing her agitation and how clearly upset she was.

 

_"Root…"_

 

_"—After everything you've done, I would have followed you down there and ripped you from the void myself!! You don't get to do all of this—"_

 

_"Root, please.."_

 

_"—and just leave! Wyrm, I have never felt so—"_

 

_"ROOT!"_

 

She finally paused in her rant, her chest heaving from how hard she was breathing.

 

 _"What,_ **_dear?_ ** _"_

 

Ouch that tone of voice was more violent than anything he'd ever heard out of her. He sighed softly, struggling to move his left arm and cover one of her hands with his own.

 

_"I'm sorry."_

 

_"I…what?"_

 

_"I'm so sorry. For everything. I.."_

 

The King looked smaller than he ever had, glowing white tears welling up in those radiant eyes of his and threatening to spill.

 

_"I hate to admit this, but I am a fool. I hurt you. I—I hurt my children—"_

 

The queen sucked in a breath at that. He had never referred to the vessels as his children. He was getting worked up now, his fingers tightening weakly on her hand.

 

 _"Yes, my children. OUR children,"_ He corrected himself, turning his gaze to the ceiling. _"I cursed them. I killed them because I'm a coward. Our beautiful children. Our child. I didn't listen to you. And it—they, they weren't...they aren't pure. They were never hollow. That was a child I sent into that egg."_

 

And then he was weeping again. Dryya looked so uncomfortable that the Lady merely waved a hand at her and she gladly stepped out, leaving the couple to themselves. 

 

_"My wyrm, what prompted such a change?"_

 

The king turned his gaze towards the ceiling, glowing tears streaking down the sides of his face as he shut his eyes.

 

_"They're down there. All of them, screaming and begging to be free. They only wanted to live, Root. They wanted to live and grow up, and I killed them. But they won't die. My sins weigh so heavily on my shoulders, I fear I will break if I keep hiding it. I never should have…I'm such a coward. Oh gods, I'm a coward."_

 

His grip on her hand grew tighter, and he turned to look at his wife. She who found him when he was fresh from his egg, unfit to take care of himself in his bug body.

 

_"My love. I will make this right. Starting with the Hollow Knight."_

 

With that, he tried to sit up, but the effort was so much so that he fell back into his pillows, gasping for breath. The White Lady kissed him on the head, arranging the pillows around him.

 

_"Shhhhhh my love. Just rest, and recuperate. You've been through such a ordeal."_

 

The king could not bring himself to disagree, his consciousness already slipping into strange dreams.

 

_The Radiance, her body lit like the sun, wrapped around a shaking bug in a tight embrace. The Hollow Knight. The Wyrm was trapped behind a pane of glass, pounding as she whispered into their ear, nuzzling against their face affectionately, blinding eyes merely slits._

 

_A tiny vessel, resembling the Hollow Knight in an uncanny fashion, walking into a windy wasteland, a broken nail in their grasp. He wanted to warn them, to pull them to safety and the palace, to save at least one of his spawn._

 

_A bug breaking out of their egg, their shell soft and white and malleable. A vessel? No. Multiple arms lifting the child, cleaning the egg fluid, cloaking it in fabric red as fire. He watched the spider queen hold the child close, and knew he was intruding on something too intimate to name._

 

_A golden coffin, being thrown into refuse and ruin. Locked and shackled. The king knew who it was, and the shock of it startled him awake._

 

When he awoke, a servant stood nearby, filling a glass of water.

 

_"You."_

 

They squeaked in fear and surprise, nearly dropping their pitcher.

 

"M-Me?"

 

_"Send for Monomon."_


	9. Necessary information

The next chapter is coming soon. Again I apologize for the wait. My mental health deteriorated greatly, and I couldn't pick up the phone to continue typing the story. I'm going to do my best to continue this story, because I've been very invested in how I want to end it. I'm not quite sure yet but we'll see :)

In the meantime, I thank you for being patient!! I love you all who enjoyed the story so far!


	10. Wyrm and...Spider?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet finally shows up. At last.

Two years. 

 

That's how long it took him to walk, to run. The fusion had taken everything out of him.

 

Three.

 

He was fighting now, or trying to at least. His knights were only too happy to help him reach his physical prime again. The missing arm was a hindrance, leaving him open to attack. He was learning to keep his guard up, at least until he found out that he could manipulate the void somewhat. Not enough to form an arm, he didn't have such tight control, but certainly enough to lash out in training with sharp tendrils of void. The king knew exactly where he'd picked up the move, but no one dared to imply he'd copied his own Hollow Knight. At night the king lay awake, haunted with those memories, watching the Hollow Knight dissolve their arm and lash out at the great knights during training...only to push their arm back into working order. If only it were so simple for him!

 

He was impatient. Learning how to walk, how to move like a normal bug, he thought he had left that far behind after reincarnating. He just wanted to right his biggest wrong, every fiber of his being just screaming to go to the temple of the black egg and finally fix things. But that wouldn't work, he'd be splattered across the dream realm and back before he could think. Still, that wouldn't stop him from  _ complaining _ .

 

_ "Ugh, I do not see why we cannot simply affix a prosthetic to my carapace!" _

 

Monomon snickered from within her tank, the sound hissing unpleasantly in his ears.

 

"Now now, my monarch, you know  _ exactly _ how that went when we tried."

 

He did in fact. Quirrel had carefully fit a beautiful prosthetic limb to his shoulder joint, all ivory and pale ore, when his body had seized and the arm had been ejected forcibly by tendrils of void. It was still embedded in the wall up to the elbow, and the Pale King looked upon it in clear scorn.

 

_ "You would think I would've had the foresight to give myself more arms when I hatched. But noooo, I just had to try and relate to the feeble bugs of this land didn't I?" _

 

"To be fair, your majesty, you did get all of those legs."

 

_ "Those don't count!!" _

 

A small knock on the door took their attention from each other. 

 

"U-Um," Althea stood shyly at the door, holding the claw of a tiny spiderling cloaked in red. "I hate to intrude, your majesty, but Herrah is asking for you…and she asked you to watch the child in the meantime..."

 

The king's stomach lurched. He hadn't seen Herrah much since the night they had spent as price for her being a dreamer. And still, she would have to be one eventually, if things went according to their plan. He wanted to avoid the conversation altogether, but he knew he couldn't. For a mortal bug, Herrah was something else.

 

_ "Ugh. Where is she now?" _

 

"Having tea with the White Lady, your grace. Apparently she doesn't wish for you to interrupt until she's finished."

 

_ "Monomon, I'll be back soon, I have business to attend to. Althea?" _

 

"Y-Yes, your majesty?"

 

_ " _ **_Please_ ** _ keep the child out of my way." _

 

The tiny spiderling stamped indignantly on the ground, their cloak flaring out slightly. The king noticed they held a toy nail in their free hand, made of shell wood. 

 

"Momma said  _ you _ had to watch me! Not the buttafly!"

 

_ "Well, Herrah knows that I am a busy king. If she wanted you to be babysat, then she should have gotten you a nurse." _

 

"Midwife didn't wanna leave her home! And she said you had to be nice to me!"

 

_ "I don't have to listen to her." _

 

The little spiderling stamped their feet again, clearly beginning to get riled up. They were tiny for their age, and clearly antsy from the long travel from Deepnest to the Palace. An almost spitting image of the Hollow Knight with their mask and thin dark body, stirring a swirl of sadness and grief inside of the king's gut. If the knight had been allowed to be a child, would they have been like this? 

 

"I'll tell Momma you were being mean!"

 

The king winced and pressed his hand to his face, dragging it down slowly. He knew he had been backed into a corner, but he didn't want to deal with the child! He cast a mildly desperate glance at Monomon, who merely giggled in amusement from her spot in the tank, a tentacle curled over the mouth of her mask. Finally he glanced back down at the child, who was glaring up at him with those big dark eyes of theirs. For now, their gaze was innocent and childishly angry, but the king knew they had inherited his eyes. Before the fusion, anyways. Eventually they'd grow into that piercing stare, the round face and horns. Eventually. He groaned and tilted his head to the ceiling, pinching between his eyes with his hand.

 

_ "Okay! Okay. You can tag along but you must not disturb me at my work. I've already wasted enough time with this." _

 

The spiderling brightened and immediately let go of Althea, scurrying over and waving their little claws up at the king. Slowly, hesitantly, he took their tiny hand.

 

"So where we going?? We gonna eat?? I'm hungry!"

 

After casting another helpless look at Monomon, the king led the small child out of the room, asking silently to have patience for their questions


	11. Father and Daughter

"Daddy!"

 

" _ Mmmmrgh.. _ "

 

The king had to resist every instinct that told him to just punt the little thing. Wyrms weren't very known for being loving parents, even if the king had never really interacted with them outside his parents and his siblings. If the child had been part of a clutch, a  _ real _ wyrm clutch, with siblings, the king wondered if he would've already advised the others to eat them. Unless...they also had turned out to be just as annoying. 

 

And yet, whenever he glanced down at the child, he felt a strange feeling resembling guilt rise from deep in his gut. Yes, they were a nuisance, and was currently in the process of hopping back and forth over his tail impatiently. Their eyes gazed back at his, their toy nail whacking at his robes. Were they not part spider, the king knew they would've already started to emit their own godly glow. 

Whether he liked it or not, they weren't just Herrah's child. They were his as well, and that thought always brought forth an ache. The king had never wanted children; The Lady had begged him within days of their union, but he'd always refused. Gods knew what kind of spawn they would've made. Beautiful, godly children they would've been, but he knew as well as she had that they would've eventually risen against their parents, tried to take what territory he still had. And when  _ She _ had risen again, the vessels were a cruel reminder, empty shells of their children, void crawled inside and taken form. 

The child tugging at his robes pulled him away from his thoughts and he turned to look, unfinished wingmould in hand

 

_ The vessel gazed up at him silently, chubby hand clasping the king's white robes, their other hand holding a small nail against their hip. _

 

The king nearly jumped out of his skin, the wingmould clattering against his work table and almost falling off if not for his quick intervention. The child hopped back in alarm and promptly tripped over his tail, going down with a loud "OOMPH", their tiny legs waving as they tried to right themselves. Once he got his breath under control, he set the wingmould into a rigid contraption on the table and turned to help them up. They were still so small that he could practically encircle their waist with his hand alone, so all it took was taking them by the arm and pulling them forward until they got their feet under them.

 

" _ You need to be careful, you're still too soft to be falling all over the place. Now, what is it? I told you not to disturb me!" _

 

The child dramatically extended their arms, their red cloak flaring out.

 

"I'm BORED! Momma said you had to watch me, and I wanna play!"

 

" _ Spiderling, I have no time for play. _ "

 

"You're not doing anything!"

 

" _ I'm trying to fix a wingmould. Look. _ "

 

He motioned to the table, and then realized they were too small to see it. So he sighed and bent, merely scooping the child up and depositing them on the table. They hopped to their feet and bounced forward, looking at the wingmould with interest. It's armor was cracked, void leaking from the wound and bubbling up into the air, winking out after a few seconds. It was cradled by a rigid iron basket screwed into the table, which the king used now due to his obvious lack of arms to hold it in place. The child sat down and leaned over to peer closer at it.

 

" _ This one was broken by a kingsmould, see? Look at the gears. _ "

 

He pulled away a piece of armor, exposing the wiring underneath. For once the child was still, enraptured by the slow mechanical grind of gears and the pump of an artificial heart. The void was everywhere, lubricating the metal like oil.

 

"...Is it hurting?"

 

He blinked at that, puzzled.

 

" _ Of course not. It can't feel pa—… _ " 

 

_ The vessel, shaking, distant lights in their eyes. _

 

"... _ Don't worry about it, I'll fix it up and it'll be good as new. _ "

 

The child's expression brightened at that, and they began excitedly tapping their little hands against the table.

 

"Can I help??"

 

The king thought about that, moving to rub his chin.

 

" _ This is...a little too advanced for a child of your age _ ."

 

"Awww…But I'm so bored!"

 

" _ If you're so bored, then why don't you… _ "

 

The king glanced around the workshop, trying to scramble some sort of activity together so that he could work in peace. He spotted one of his spare tool kits and lugged it over, snatching scrap metal and gears from the ground and laying it on the side of the table. The child picked up a coil and began toying with it, tilting their head curiously.

 

" _ Why don't you build something? See what you can make, let your imagination run wild. Perhaps you've inherited some of my mechanical brilliance. _ " 

 

The child clapped their little hands and opened the tool box, dumping it out onto the table. With that settled the king turned back to his work, screwdriver in hand. There was silence for awhile after that, save for the occasional coo of interest next to him.

 

"Daddy?"

 

" _ Yes? _ "

 

"I saw a painting of you today. Why do you look so different?"

 

He glanced over at them, tilting his head when he saw them fitting gears into a box they made.

 

" _ That's a long and complicated question, child. You wouldn't understand. _ "

 

They gave a huff of annoyance, banging some metal against the table.

 

"Momma said that too. And the Lady."

 

" _ Maybe they're right. But I'll say, I just fell into a big puddle. _ "

 

The child shot him a flabbergasted look, and he found that it forced a few chuckles out of him, amusement bubbling up and making him smile down at them.

 

"A puddle??"

 

" _ Oh yes. It was made of a special kind of water, so you don't have to worry about the same thing happening to you. _ "

 

"Oh... okay."

 

\-------------

 

"Momma!" 

 

The spiderling all but threw themself into the many arms of their mother, who tossed them up into the air briefly before giving them a tight hug. The king averted his gaze, letting them have their moment.

 

"That's my sweet little spider. How was it?"

 

"Daddy let me build something! Look!"

 

They dug deep into their cloak and presented the little box proudly, Herrah taking it from them and inspecting it.

 

"It's a music box! He helped me with the hard parts."

 

The child waved their claws until Herrah held it within their reach, and they began turning a vaguely key shaped piece of metal. When they finished, a simple tune began to tinkle, a song the child remembered the Lady humming whenever she held them. All parties listened intently until it faded out, and Herrah smiled, pulling the child closer and bumping their heads together.

 

"That was really nice, sweetheart! I'm glad you had fun with your father. Why don't you run along and show the Lady while I talk to him? She's in the dining room still."

 

"Okay Momma! I'll be back!"

 

Herrah set the child on the ground, and they wheeled off, giggling to themself. Herrah and the king were left alone.

 

"...So."

 

"... _ So. _ " 

 

She crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly.

 

"You know, I did come here to yell at you for avoiding your own child. And to talk about the trade between our kingdoms."

 

" _ What's wrong with the trade between our kingdoms?? _ "

 

Herrah jabbed a finger into his chest, making him flinch involuntarily.

 

"You KNOW that we're not getting enough for our silks. I want the prices to be fair!"

 

" _ What?? Are you trying to bankrupt my kingdom?? _ "

 

"As if!"

 

The king groaned. This was going to be a long long day.


End file.
